Drunk (4)

She strapped on her heels, smoothed her stockings, tugged down her corset.

After three weeks, Sir’s school had become the refuge that she had always fantasized about. Her parents had sent her to the finest schools, but never demanded anything of her. They had hoped she’d settle down with some Harvard grad, rather than becoming a permanent fixture on the club scene.

No one missed her. There had been daily sweeps of her phone messages, her mail. Her bills were minimal, pleas for charitable contributions were plentiful, but there was nothing personal in any of the mail. On her voice mail were two messages over the last weeks, one from her some-time male companion, and one from her mother.

It had given her true pause to know that virtually no one had noticed that she’d virtually dropped disappeared. She hadn’t been drunk since the night she’d insisted on being driven in Sir’s Rolls, and been brought here.

She shook her head, pausing a moment to look at the woman reflected back at her. Her posture was impeccable; rounds with the cane slapping at her back every time she slouched had corrected that rather quickly.  Her skin was glowing with good food, exercise and the occasional glass of Dom.

It made her smile every time Sir offered her a sip from his glass. Dom from a Dom. She looked at herself, standing there, poised, relaxed, confident. The smile that came now was radiant. He had remade her.

He had more likely, saved her.

He’d called her an impossible woman. He’d clucked his tongue, and promised her ‘bad girl’ punishments if she didn’t hove to.  He’d called her slut, and whore, and wanton.

He’d taught her the beauty of pain mixed with pleasure; he’d taught her how to pleasure a man. She still remembered the first time he’d pulled her to her knees and had her service Tomas. She’d been horrified. She’d given hand jobs before, sure, but putting a mans penis into her mouth?

She’d stayed on her knees, lips locked shut. He’d fastened clamps to her nipples. For every minute that passed without her compliance, a weight was added to the chain that hung between her breasts. As he’d added the 5th one, she’d gasped. She’d been certain that her nipples would have pulled right off. The clamps stayed on, during the entire time of her tutorial blow job.

She didn’t think Tomas was ever going to cum.

And when she realized that she was expected to swallow that stuff? She had been so hungry, nearly dizzy with it. And when Sir had told her that her only food would be Tomas’ cum, and water later? She’d been torn between horror and shock.

Surely no one could survive on cum and water?

She’d not known then about the parties that Sir hosted, about the blind “glory hole” that she would need to service. She had been secured on her knees, mounted on a vibrating dildo that was buried in her pussy and strapped inside of her. She couldn’t push it out, and she couldn’t hump it.

She thought she would throw up, so grossed out was she by this particular duty. A maid stayed with her, pressing her head towards the hole each time a cock slipped through.

Her belly was full and she needed to cum herself by the end of the party. Thankfully Sir rewarded good service, and after releasing her, he let the maid fuck her with the dildo while he slapped her tits with a crop.

She had come to crave the pain to enhance the pleasure.

Tonight she would actually attend one of Sir’s parties.  She would be allowed to circulate among the guests, and her  holes would be of service to any and all who chose to partake of them.

She was nervous.

She didn’t want to fuck up. She didn’t want to be a ‘bad’ girl, nor did she want to disappoint Sir. He was fussy and particular, but he had a nugget of caring and compassion. She owed him deeply for the transformation from the wasted life from before, to the confident woman she was now.

She was a slut from the House of Q, and she had come a long way from that drunken girl.

Tonight, she would please Him.